


Anything.

by LeighLemont



Series: Wincesty One Shots [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aggressive Sam Winchester, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Brother/Brother Incest, Dark Dean Winchester, Dark Sam Winchester, Demon Blood, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Sex, Demon blood AU, Desperate Dean Winchester, Doggy Style, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Evil Dean Winchester, Evil Sam Winchester, Forced Orgasm, Hurt Dean Winchester, Knight of Hell Dean Winchester, M/M, Manipulative Dean Winchester, Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Past Ruby/Sam Winchester, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sam Winchester, Rough Sex, Sam Winchester Drinks Demon Blood From Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Sibling Incest, Top Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 10:49:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19207843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeighLemont/pseuds/LeighLemont
Summary: Somewhere between the last time Sam had sliced into his skin with the knife and the last orgasm Sam had fucked out of him, torture and pleasure had become one in the same for Dean. Sam inside him, fucking him until Dean was exhausted and flat against the mattress, claiming him with teeth, rough with need, and desperate for violence... Forget Hell, this brutality was…Heavenly.





	Anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Needed a break from editing a 40 page monstrosity chapter for another wincest fic. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Somewhere between the last time Sam had sliced into his skin with the knife and the last orgasm Sam had fucked out of him, torture and pleasure had become one in the same for Dean. Sam inside him, fucking him until Dean was exhausted and flat against the mattress, claiming him with teeth, rough with need, and desperate for violence... Forget Hell, this brutality was… _Heavenly_.

Back then, as distant and far away as it seemed, Dean hadn’t understood why Ruby had linked sex and blood together. He’d thought he’d understood, but he hadn’t at all. He’d always thought the sex had been a way to control Sam; to make him feel reliant emotionally and physically, to make him trust and accept Ruby’s instructions with ease, to make him let his guard down...but Dean had misunderstood. It hadn’t been that calculated or nuanced. It hadn’t been about manipulating Sam. Most of what Ruby had done and said had done back then had been about manipulating Sam, but not the sex part. The Mark of Cain, waking up with black eyes and a twisted soul, had changed what he'd always thought he'd known about Sammy and demon blood. Now that he knew the sensation of Sammy pulling life from his body, Dean understood Ruby perfectly. 

Sammy using him, making him come until he physically couldn’t anymore, feeling himself go weak under Sam’s mouth from blood loss as Sam got stronger...Sammy quivering with power, hunger, strength, cocky, terrifying, and confident...Dean had hated seeing Sam like that before, when he’d been human. Now Dean equated the once heartbreaking sight of Sam turned so primal with a gentle mouth sucking at his cock or fingers milking his prostate as a reward for letting Sam wear him out. It wasn’t a hardship. There was nothing more addictive than the lightheaded weightless feeling that the combination of being fed from and fucked by Sam provided.

“Oh God.” Dean moaned, fisting his hands in the sheets as he felt the knife cut another small line in his shoulder blade. Sam never cut him to really hurt him and Dean’s own demonic powers meant that as long as Sam wanted him alive, he’d be able to heal himself with no problem. It was all up to Sammy though, and the threat of danger made Dean's cock pulse with painful anticipation where it had been momentarily abandoned beneath him. 

The knife Sam used to feed from him wasn’t necessary, Sammy’s teeth were plenty sharp enough to break his skin, and had before, but the knife made nights when Sam wanted to draw it out like this or feed more than a couple times more convenient. It was easier to contain the mess when they used the knife on Dean’s skin as opposed to Sam’s teeth. The smaller incisions helped Sam limit how much of the honey sweet liquid he pulled from Dean’s body at once. Sam didn’t want to drain Dean completely, at least not when it came to his blood.

“Close enough.” Sam smirked, closing his hand around Dean’s jaw and forcing him up on all fours again. Dean’s body was sluggish to respond, but Sam didn’t give him a choice. Sam wasn’t done with him yet. Dean could probably still come again and Sam was still so hungry for him. 

Even before this twisted mess that they were now, he’d always been starved for Dean. Starved for Dean’s attention as a child, his approval as a teenager, his comfort and familiarity after Jessica, his companionship after Ruby and Lucifer, and every confused twist and turn that had brought them here... Sam had always been starving. 

Sam sealed his lips over the wound on Dean’s shoulder and felt Dean’s entire body shake as he started to swallow down more of the warm liquid. The first few tastes against his lips were always so sweet. His cock twitched inside of Dean and he felt Dean’s muscles start contracting in response around him, not an orgasm, but the very real threat of one. 

Sam fought the urge to keep going until he'd swallowed every drop down. The blood was so intoxicating there was almost always a moment where he wondered if this would be the time he went too far. He groaned and pulled back, swiping his tongue one last time over the wound and watching Dean’s skin slowly heal up right in front of him. It took a lot longer for the cut to vanish this time than it had earlier tonight; proof that Dean was giving everything for him again. 

“Up.” Sam growled, voice thick with need. He pulled at Dean’s hip once to get his point across and withdrew slowly, not wanting to leave the tight heat of his brother, but promising himself as he slipped his cock free that he’d be back inside soon. 

He helped Dean to his knees, guiding Dean’s shoulders back so that he was up straight in front of Sam. Dean was practically boneless but he stayed where Sam placed him, quivering with the effort of keeping himself upright. Sam pushed Dean’s legs apart and curled Dean’s hips forward slightly so that his ass was pushed back. It was a precarious position, supported primarily by Sam’s arm around his chest. This is how Sam wanted it to end if it had to end soon. Sam pushed himself deep into Dean, the angle so much tighter than it had been before with Dean sprawled on the mattress. If it had to end soon, Sam wanted it to end like this. He pushed Dean’s knees a little farther apart to make him sink down until Sam’s hips were pushed as tight against his older brother as he could manage. 

Dean moaned and tipped his head back on Sam’s shoulder, reaching back to tangle his hand in Sam’s hair as Sam started to fuck into him. As a general rule, Dean didn’t get tired anymore since becoming a demon, but this made him tired, exhausted, fatigued. Maybe that was part of why he craved it so much. It was a delicious feeling having Sam methodically strip away his strength. Tired was a familiar sensation that had plagued him incessantly as a human, but ‘tired’ was inaccessible to him now. It was a sensation only Sam could give him, and he’d take whatever sensations Sam wanted to inflict on him. 

Sam’s blade was pressed against his skin again, tracing delicate lines near Dean’s jugular. Sam would never cut Dean there, too risky, too desperate, too dangerous. Sam was trembling with the force of the demon blood making his senses rush and his body was burning for more, but he held himself in check. Even though Sam had finally given in and embraced the dark parts of himself they’d both always worked to suppress, Sam was still a careful creature by default.

He couldn’t taste from Dean’s throat, but he could take his time to appreciate the quiet moan that Dean couldn’t hold back as the knife grazed over the dip between his collar bones. He was pressed close all along the line of Dean’s back and Dean’s fingers were curled tighter in his hair. Part of him wanted to let go and chase after his own orgasm by fucking Dean deep and rough, plans for making Dean come again be damned, but a larger part of himself wanted to watch Dean crumple one last time before the end. He grit his teeth together, just barely rocking his hips and searching patiently for the little spot that would make Dean whimper every time Sam hit it just right. 

“You taste sweet.” Sam informed him quietly, voice predatory. Dean shuddered in response to the breath against his ear. Sam removed the blade from Dean's throat, nicking a spot no bigger than a quarter of an inch on the back of Dean’s neck instead, and tossed the knife back to the bedside table. He wouldn’t need it anymore tonight. He ran his tongue over the area, licking up the drops of crimson that spilled from the tiny wound. He couldn’t take much more from Dean right now, not as much as he wanted to, but he could take this. This wouldn’t be too much. “Your blood, your come...I always want to taste you.” 

Sam mouthed at the back of Dean’s neck, licking what seeped out on its own but not pulling more than what was freely offered by Dean’s flesh. He reached in front of Dean, wrapping a loose hand around Dean’s cock. It was hard, swollen red again even though the sheets underneath him were ruined with the evidence of how many times they’d made him do this already. The first night he’d wrung Dean dry, it had been a little surprising for both of them when Dean had gasped sharply and his cock had jerked uselessly in Sam’s grasp. Since then, Sam was often intent on forcing consecutive orgasms without reprieve until he could get the same result. It was just part of what they did now, one of the many things that had changed between them since Dean had first tricked Sam into drinking his blood. 

“Sam.” Dean groaned, jerking his hips against Sam’s fist and fucking himself back on Sam’s cock. 

“That’s it, Dean.” Sam murmured, swallowing the blood he’d collected on his tongue. “Soon. Not yet, but just one more.” 

“Please, Sam.” Dean moaned, not caring if he sounded desperate. He needed more than Sam’s loose fist and shallow thrusts. His muscles were burning from the strain, his head was spinning from the blood loss, his cock was throbbing in anticipation and over-stimulation, but he wouldn’t get it until Sam decided he was good and ready and there was nothing Dean could do about it. Sam was stronger than most of the monsters they’d ever faced now, and while they were still as evenly matched as they’d ever been on a normal day, Dean had lost too much blood to resist Sam. That was just as well. He didn’t want to. 

When Dean had been human, he’d always thought that Sam’s powers had been something to run from, that they hadn’t really been part of Sammy, just something that had been forced on Sam. He’d been wrong. This was Sam. Twisted, dark, ruthless, using Dean’s body for pleasure and power- Sam was beautiful. 

One drop in a cup of morning coffee had been more than enough; more addictive and effective than heroin. Sam had been done for immediately. His senses had snapped awake, his hunger for power and thirst for blood had rekindled hot and urgent in his stomach. Dean had learned for the first time that Sam could smell demons when he was on demon blood. He’d found Dean easily, taking him by surprise with a right hook and claiming more of Dean’s blood from the split lip Sam’s fist had left behind. 

Sam had known what Dean had done without having to ask or think about it and Sam had been unbelievably angry, but he’d also sealed his lips over Dean’s bleeding mouth and had taken him rough right there on the cold floor of the bunker, thirst taking over and inhibitions stripping away. Dean didn’t regret his deception for a moment. Dean may have tricked Sammy into coming back to the blood, but Sam had been very much in control ever since.

Sam let go of Dean’s cock and wrapped his hand over Dean’s mouth instead, quieting the soft whimpers being forced out of Dean with the force of Sam’s slow hard thrusts forwards. Sam had found what he was looking for and he planned to assault the little mound of flesh until Dean was shaking in his arms and begging him. Dean wouldn’t know what to ask for. He would beg for more. He’d beg for it to stop. He’d beg to come. He’d beg for Sam to use him. Regardless of what spilled from his lips when Sam let him speak again, he’d be begging. 

“Want me to drain you, Dean?” Sam asked, low and rough, close to his own orgasm but waiting until Dean tumbled over the edge again. “You couldn’t stop me, could you? Not right now. Wouldn’t want to would you?” 

Sam let his hand drop from Dean’s mouth to his hip, using the extra hold to speed up his thrusts. Dean’s hand fell from where it had been tangled in Sam’s hair to rub over his own chest, fingers brushing Sam’s where the bruising grip was keeping him upright. 

“Sam.” Dean groaned, sounding drugged and drowsy. “Sammy. I want- hurt me...I need- Sam I can’t-”

“Shh.” Sam whispered, tilting his head sideways to catch his lips on the corner of Dean’s jaw where Dean’s head was still resting on his shoulder. “You can do one more.”

“-kill me, Sam. You’re fuck- you’re gonna kill me.” Dean shuddered. 

“Is that what you want Dean?” Sam growled, scraping his teeth against Dean’s shoulder blade, patience finally running out. “Feel all empty inside? Want me to fill you up? Make you come, drain you, end it for you?”

“Anything. Sammy. Any-anything.” Dean groaned and then cried out as Sam’s teeth dug into his shoulder. The orgasm that collided with Dean was intense, painful, and completely out of his control. His muscles were spasming, his body lost in Sam’s grip and held firmly in place by Sam’s desperate desire to keep himself buried deep inside the waves of convulsions ripping through Dean. Sam finally lost his carefully rhythm, his goal finally achieved and he let his hips set their own pace, chasing his own release. He brushed his lips over the spot on Dean’s shoulder he’d bit as his own orgasm pushed ribbons of come into his brother’s still trembling body. 

“So delicious. So good for me.” Sam groaned, fingers stroking at Dean’s chest where his tight grasp would have left bruises if Dean had still had to worry about those types of injuries. “So wrecked, but obedient. Fuck Dean.” 

Dean didn’t reply, just nodded his head. Sam wasn’t looking for a reply from him, he was just offering praise. This was part of Dean’s reward. Sam’s hands would turn gentle on him now and this was as close as Dean would feel to human, being put back together by Sam’s careful tongue and touch. 

“We’re gonna rule hell together.” Sam whispered to him, cupping Dean’s jaw and turning his head to meet Dean’s eye. The glint in his expression broadcast the intention behind his words perfectly. He meant what he was saying. His hands were careful on Dean’s skin as Sam sat back on his own ankles, pulling Dean with him and keeping them tucked close together. “You and me. We’re gonna do it Dean.” 

Dean didn’t doubt that they could. Dean was strong, a Knight of Hell powered by the mark of Cain, whether he felt loyal to hell or not. Other demons were already afraid of Sam, and for good reason. The longer the blood stayed in Sam’s system, the stronger he’d get and he was already terrifying. Sam could already reduce Dean, one of the strongest demons currently in existence, to a quivering mess whenever he wanted to. 

It was only because Sam didn’t want to kill him that Dean survived any of the times Sammy fed from him. He’d watched Sam drink from other demons, merciless, unblinking, quick, messy, and filled with blood-lust. Frankly, Sammy could probably have hell if he wanted it, even without Dean. It was easily Sam's for the taking.

Dean was dimly aware of the uncomfortable sensation of Sam pulling out of him, but then he was laying on his back on the clean side of the bed with his legs pushed apart. Dean settled into the mattress, relaxed and sated in a way sex with regular humans hadn't been able to make him since he'd been altered by the mark. Sam’s mouth was working its way down his chest, licking up stray smudges of blood and come on his stomach, chest and thighs before Sam was carefully suckling the head of Dean’s cock clean after so much use. It was too much, Sam’s feather light licks making Dean's toes curl and his spent cock twitching helplessly, but he stayed still. 

“Anything you want, Sammy.” Dean murmured again, closing his eyes and running his fingers through Sam’s hair as Sam tongued appreciatively at the slit of his cock. “Anything.”


End file.
